Mindless Dogs
by Lonely L
Summary: In war, there are commanders, there are kings, and there are mindless dogs who do as their told. "You're a mindless dog, whether you like it or not. You smell blood, and attack."
1. Chapter 1: Origins Part 1

**Mindless Dogs**

_Chapter One: Origins Part One_

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There was pouring rain, it beat against the soldiers and pounded down on them. Many were sick, if not from the cold water, then from the infected wounds they received. The black rolling clouds above held no promise that the rain was going to let up soon. It held nothing of that kind of promise.

Lightning flashed, it illuminated the sky so brightly that each and every member outside was momentarily blinded. Deafening thunder followed. The soldiers outside were covered in thick, dark, mud. Many had given up trying not to get the thick sludge on them, and instead, sprawled out in it. Their bodies using it as a bed, letting the thick sludge sink to fit their own bodies. Truly, it was better than sleeping on the cold hard floor they were used to.

One soldier, who had taken off his helmet ages ago, turned over in the mud to face another. His blond hair was caked in the substance around him, and it was smeared on his face. Still, he had a wide, lopsided smile on. "Hey, you!" He called out to the person lounging beside him. The other soldier turned his head to acknowledge his presence.

"What?" The other drawled. It had been a tiring day, and the smiling man beside him only seemed to make him more… tired.

"This your first battle?" He asked. The other looked at him, clearly bored.

"No."

"What's your name?" The blonde man asked again. The other man sighed, and took in a deep breath.

"My name… is Salem." He told the younger man. The blonde had a wider smile than before.

"Salem-?"

"Don't mock, I still don't know yours." Salem told him. The blonde man raised his eyebrows, and leaned back. He rested his head against the mud, and felt it sink in. Water hit his face, but he knew that it was going to pour soon, so he didn't complain… just yet.

"I'm Andrew." He told him. Silence fell between them, a silence that Andrew wanted gone. "Ah, had a great life 'fore all this shit happened." Andrew spat out.

"Mine wasn't that fabulous." Salem said quietly. This made Andrew's head turn toward him.

"Either way, its worse now, right?" Andrew asked. The other man frowned. He reached up and took off his helmet. Black hair fell out, and a smooth, unmarred face was shone. Salem sighed. And ran a hand through his black hair.

"Yes. It's worse now." Salem breathed out. Andrew licked his lips and looked down.

"I had a girl." He told Salem off-handedly. Salem smirked.

"So did I."

"Died in the first bombing. Not even from the kingdom we're attacking right now." Andrew told Salem. "That was two years ago. Was pretty upset when it happened."

"Were you going to marry her?" Salem asked.

"Ugh, well, I was planning on it. One day just… wasn't ready, back then." Andrew murmured. His mind drifting off to the last memory of her: his beautiful Emily. She had thick, dark hair that was just past her shoulders, and wide, blue eyes. She had a good sense of humor too. But she was gone. Forever gone, and was never coming back.

A lone tear escaped his eye and traveled down his temple before reaching his hairline. It was lost next to all the other raindrops that hit his face. She was gone, for two years now. He was over her, he was over her, at least, and that was what he kept repeating in his head. "What was your girl like?" Andrew asked.

"She is… was… a school teacher." Salem started.

"Is she dead?" Andrew cut in, sincere curiosity in his eyes and despair in his tone. He knew what it was like to loose someone close to him, and he was just… curious. Salem closed his eyes.

"Yes. She had… a poor heart condition." Salem muttered, hoping that the blonde man beside him didn't hear. Andrew, however, heard every word.

"Shit, that sucks." He muttered. Salem smirked.

"Died before I was even enlisted." Salem told him. Andrew had a look of disbelief on his face.

"What'd she look like?" Andrew asked. Salem flashed his a cold glare. "No it's not like that! I just wanna know so that I can picture her better. Like, my girl, Emily, had dark curly hair and blue eyes. See? Just like that. Nothing dirty… or shallow, I guess. I just want to know." Andrew tried to defend himself with the rushed explanation. Salem eyed him wearily, but said nothing else.

"Her name was Janette. She had long, blonde hair and green eyes." Salem murmured.

"Damn betcha lot's of her students had crushes on her!" Andrew said loudly.

"She taught a pre-school class." Salem corrected him.

"Oh, heh, right." Andrew trailed off. Salem smiled slightly.

"What was special about Emily?" He asked. Andrew looked up. A raindrop fell into his eye.

"Gah!" He bent forward and started to blink. His mud coated back shone whenever lightning flashed. Andrew squeezed his eyes shut and willed the sting to go away. What was in that water? A faint chuckle started, and, slowly, got louder and louder. Andrew opened one eye – the eye that hurt in the first place – and saw that Salem had his head thrown back and was laughing. There was no need to laugh as hard, or as loud as he did. But the sound seemed to make the dreary setting much more… happy. The sound was something that was not common on a battlefield, and made many of the other soldiers head's turn. Salem leaned over and slapped Andrew hard against the back, making his head slam into his knees. Mud coated his forehead and got into his open eye. "Ah!" Andrew lifted a hand to his head and put pressure on the mud-coated eye. More laughs were heard.

"Don't rub it, the mud will spread." He heard Salem tell him. Andrew groaned.

The rain got harder and more frequent, and soon, the entire camp was being pounded with sheets of rain. Andrew lifted his head up and tried to use the water to clear his eye. He blinked a lot, though it couldn't be seen.

"Why are we out here?" Andrew yelled to Salem, seeing, as the water was loud and near deafening to his ears.

"You really need to ask that!" Salem yelled back. A laugh erupted from Andrew's throat. "What was Emily like?" Salem asked loudly. They were only a few feet away from each other; yelling was not necessary.

"Emily? She was waitress. Made jokes all the time, to me, or anyone else. Always got people to laugh." Andrew told him, the volume of his voice a little bit louder than Salem, but he didn't care.

"Why didn't she become-" Salem started.

"A stand-up comedian?" Andrew finished for him.

"Yeah!"

"Had terrible stage fright." Andrew told him. Salem laughed.

"That's ironic." Salem noted. Andrew nodded. "What about family. Have any?"

"Died when I was six. Been in foster homes since then." Andrew told him.

"I never knew my father, my mother died when I was a baby, lived with my grandparents." Salem told him.

"That actually makes sense!" Andrew told him. Salem frowned.

"Why?" He asked loudly, so that Andrew could hear him.

"You dated-"

"Was going to marry." Salem corrected. Andrew shrugged.

"Was going to marry a school teacher; ya had to be a softie! Being raised by old folks would explain it!" Andrew told him, and laughed. Salem narrowed his eyes, before smirked. He leaned over and hit Andrew at the back of his head- hard.

"Ow!" Andrew exclaimed. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his head. "What was that for!" He demanded.

"Don't mock my name, or my family, and we'll get along just fine." Salem told him. Andrew aped him, saying the same sentence, only in a higher pitch. Salem hit him in the back of the head again.

"Holy Etro! Would you stop?" Andrew yelled, annoyed with Salem. Said man simply laughed.

"How are you going to be able to take a bullet, if you can't even take a hit against your head?" Salem told him. Andrew grimaced.

"The fact that your not doing any damage, other than making me more stupid each time you hit me, it's fucking annoying!" Andrew exclaimed. Salem laughed some more. Andrew rolled his eyes.

"Wouldn't want to swear around a big ol' softie like me." Salem chastised him.

"Shut it." Andrew groaned.

The two fell silent, both their heads were bowed, but that was mostly due to the pouring rain. They were in sitting position, but Salem held his head in his hands and Andrew had his arms wrapped around his legs loosely.

"When do you think, it'll be over?" Andrew asked. His voice, though not as loud as it was before, still managed to reach Salem through the pouring rain. Salem shifted his weight.

"I... I don't know."

They both fell silent again. Thinking and hurting, and remembering. Old wounds were opened up, Emily and Janette, two irreplaceable people, who both held a piece of one of their hearts.

"_Emily!" Andrew called. Their small apartment was brightly decorated, courtesy of Emily, but Andrew had his tastes in it as well. One of them being a large flat screen TV with numerous gaming systems. "Emily! We gotta go!" Andrew yelled._

"_Ah! I'm coming! Gimme a sec!" She called back. Andrew rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. Women, they always took so long to get ready. Andrew put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall._

"_Can't believe your dragging me to this, and you're not even ready!" Andrew called out. He heard a loud groan come from far off._

"_Sorry, but unless you want to find out how long it takes to put on make-up, piss off!" She yelled back at him. Andrew smiled widely. He could imagine her flushing out of embarrassment._

_Andrew looked around the apartment. He was right beside the front door, so he had a good look at the majority of the floor plan. The living room was right in front of him, the tan couches were cheap, but comfy and didn't look girly, and the large flat screen was to his left. Beside the living room was the kitchen, which was probably the largest room in the apartment. It had enough space to fit a circular table with four chairs easily, that, and having plenty of counter space and cupboards. The hall was further right of him, and it had one bathroom, one bedroom, a closet, and a butler's pantry in it. Overall it was a very small apartment._

_The brightly coloured paintings were gifts from Emily's brother, who was an art student. The two never exactly hit it off, and their relationship had been strained since. The two siblings got along much better, much to his confusion, and to add further to that, they had a strange game going. Each holiday where it was customary for gifts, the two went to great lengths to out-do the other. It was odd, but Andrew chalked it off to sibling rivalry and shrugged it off. _

_It did, after all, decorate their apartment. _

"_Okay, I'm ready." Emily told him, her voice suddenly very close. Andrew looked over to her, and raised an eyebrow._

_Emily had always been pretty. He couldn't admit that she was beautiful, for her features didn't support such a declaration, however she was by no means unattractive. Her personality was like a magnet, and her looks were simple and well cared for. Her smile made her look funny, twisting her face slightly off, but he had learned to love it none-the-less. _

_Her make-up was heavy. The thought ran through his head as he scanned her face, noting the horrible job she had done, noticing places where the eyeliner had smudged and, as she looked up at him for approval, he noticed a stain of red lipstick on her front tooth. He grinned at that; at least his Emily was still down there somewhere. _

_The concealer did a bad job at hiding her skin's imperfections, in fact, only now that she had it on, did he actually notice it. She looked cheap, like a cheap harlot, but the imperfections and the way her large blue eyes stared up at him worriedly made him love her all the more: his cosmetic-challenged girlfriend. _

"_You look like a clown, clown." He told her with a goofy smile. Emily's mouth fell open in disbelief, and he laughed as she hit him on his arm. "Sure you're face won't melt off half-way through the night?"_

"_I put in on the best I could, jerk!" She scolded, before sighing. "Thank God! Hold on a sec. I'm going to go wipe this gunk off my face." She retreated before reemerging, her skin red from being rubbed raw, all concealer and lipstick gone, the only thing that wasn't touched were her eyes. _

_Now he could look at her. "So? Seriously, I felt like such a retard with that much shit on my face." _

"_Breathtaking." He joked, though meaning it at the same time. With no make-up, he saw her, not her face, but _her_ and she as herself was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. _

"_Thanks." She smiled at him, revealing the lipstick stain that had remained. With a smile he ignored it, filing it away for either blackmail or a good excuse to kiss her. His eyes trailed to her hair, which she had pulled into a high bun, some loose curls falling to frame her face. _

_She was dressed in a simple black dress that clung to her a little too tightly. He smiled, remembering when she told him she hadn't worn it since her high school graduation, and that during those 'oh so horrible' days, she had been obsessive over dieting. _

_He was glad she quit. _

"_Well? Was all that waiting worth it?" She asked. Andrew blinked. He shook his head to clear his thoughts._

"_Hmm?" He asked. Emily rolled her eyes._

"_Do. I. Look. Good? I mean all of me, not just the make-up bit." She asked again._

"_Oh, yeah, you always look good, Em." He told her. She groaned._

"_Do I look better now, though?" She asked. His eyebrows knitted together._

"_Course, wait," He groaned. "I don't know what you want me to say." He confessed. Emily rolled her eyes again._

"_Tell me how you think I look, right now. Forget all the stuff about what your supposed to say. If I wanted that, I would have gone out with a poster." She joked. Andrew smiled._

"_You're gorgeous, now, can we go?" He asked. She shook her head and smiled._

"_Yeah, don't want Braden to get pissed off that we didn't go to his graduation party. He might not give us any more paintings."_

"_Oh, gee, what would we ever do without those." Sarcasm dripped from Andrews sentence. Emily hit him in the shoulder._

"_If you're going to be like that, I'll just find myself another date." She warned. Andrew looked at her from the corner of his eye. He silently calculated the chances of her getting another date on such short notice. His eyes trailed over her figure. Yup, there were really good chances that she could._

"_Fine, I'll keep my complaining to the minimum" He told her. She smirked, triumphant._

"_Like I care. Geez, my brother is practically broke, we have more money than he does, and paintings are what he's got plenty of. 'Sides, I think if we got any more paintings, we'll have a collage."_

"_More like a museum." Andrew muttered. Emily laughed quietly._

"_Just… don't complain in front of him. My dad would be pretty upset with you if you did." She warned. Andrew blanched. He took put his hands on the handle and turned it, opening the door._

"_Etro, all I need is another excuse for your dad to give me another speech on how I'm not good enough for you."_

"_That's Daddy!" Emily stepped through the door, followed by Andrew. "Oh, and tomorrow I have a double shift, so you'll have to take the laundry to the Laundromat. Okay?" She told him. Andrew nodded. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the key to the apartment. He stuck the key in the keyhole and turned it. The bolt slid in with an audible noise. "We really need to get an alarm system." She noted._

"_Yeah, cause those paintings in there are worth a fortune!" He joked. Emily smiled. She put a hand over his mouth and used the other one to put a finger to her lips._

"_Ssh! If anyone knew about the treasure maps on the other side, we'll lose our job as spy's!" She joked. Andrew smiled beneath her fingertips. He lifted a hand up to lower hers._

"_Wouldn't want that." Andrew leaned in and planted his lips on hers. Emily smiled through the kiss, before, sidestepping him, and breaking the kiss. Andrew let out a breath of annoyance._

"_If you want another kiss, you'll have to catch me!" She called out._

"_You're in high heels!" He told her, she shrugged, and kicked them off._

"_Not anymore!" She bent down and picked him up, then, without warning, she took off, and rammed into the door that led to the stairs. "Catch me!" She yelled, the sound only a faint echo from her retreating figure. Andrew smiled and ran after her. He wanted that kiss._

The rain slowly stopped, and time went by. Though it was thought to be impossible, the two, Salem and Andrew, managed to fall asleep.

"Dogs! Get your lazy ass up! There's an attack coming!" Their leading commander yelled out to all the soldiers who were forced to sleep out in the rain. Salem came to first. Used his elbows to lift himself up and to observe the scene. Many soldiers were already up and heading towards the weaponry vehicle to get guns. Some were still sleeping, and some were just like him, staring at the scene, without any real intention of getting up.

"What happened?" Came a drowsy voice to his right. Salem turned his head to see Andrew open his eyes groggily. He was on his stomach, but Salem knew he didn't fall asleep like that; he must have rolled onto his stomach when he was waking up.

"There's an attack coming. Everyone is getting ready." Salem informed the blonde man.

"Attack from who?"

"It doesn't matter." Salem told him, and got up to get himself a weapon. "We're mindless dogs who do as their told. Nothing more."

Andrew licked his lips and stared at the ground beneath his hands. "Mindless dogs." He spat, and got up to join everyone else.

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_Andrew is the shotgun guy, and Salem is the man with the scar on his face. Currently he has no scar. This has been edited October 9 2010. _


	2. Chapter 2: Origins Part 2

**Chapter Two:** Origins: _Part 2_

Daylight had not broken through the clouds, and though they were the same shade as they were the night before, it was not raining. Bodies were all crowding around one of three vehicles. Their boots sunk into the soft ground, and caused many to stumble. Some of the soldiers tripped, and, in a result, got trampled over.

"One…." Andrew started, maneuvering himself through the amounts of bodies in an attempt to keep up with Salem, who had managed to use his build to push aside the weaker, less experienced soldiers. "Question." He shoved someone out of the way. Salem paused only a little bit, and nodded in Andrew's direction to show him that he was listening. "I've been a soldier for two years now, and still, we're with these other-" He violently shoved a fellow soldier out of the way. His shove forced the man off of his feet and to fall into the mud. Andrew paid no attention to the man he just carelessly thrown aside. Salem watched as the man fell with a slight movement of his head, before making his way forward toward the closest large vehicle. Already guns were being thrown out into the crowd of gathering soldiers.

"Don't flatter yourself, Andrew, I've been enlisted for four years now, and I'm just like you." Salem yelled above the voices.

Guns were thrown out, all of them were the same, they were being thrown out and soldiers caught them.

One wave of weaponry was thrown in Andrew's immediate direction; he raised his arm and caught it.

The action did not go as he expected it to, as his wrist caught the heavy metal at a wrong angle, forcing his elbow to bend back and for him to yelp in pain. He fumbled with the automated rifle.

"One would have thought that this was your first time." Salem commented. Andrew looked up at him. His gaze swept along the weapon in Salem's hands. Andrew cursed.

"We'll see." Andrew commented. He stood up straight, revealing himself to almost compare to Salem in height.

"Dogs!" The commander yelled out. Many faces turned their attention to their commander. His figure was well built, and his forever-sneering expression caused many of the soldiers to fear him, or respect him.

Andrew, however, didn't give a damn about him.

Andrew wasn't even from this squad, but his previous squad had been split up. They were dead, wounded, unable to fight at all, or, alive and well, and forced to work somewhere else, seeing as their commander died.

Andrew lazily lifted the weapon to rest on his shoulders; his hands were on either side of it. His right at the nozzle, his left at the trigger, his actions balanced the gun and ensured that it stayed in place.

"Form a line! I want NO ONE to enter the camp!" The commander ordered, and, in an instant, all of the prepared soldiers took their positions.

Andrew deliberately took his time, waiting for Salem to catch up, seeing as he knew no one else, he thought it would be stupid not to stay with him. That, and he really didn't want have the older man die before he even got to have more than one conversation with him.

"Salem!" Andrew called, and spun on his heel to see behind him. The man he was waiting for had his head bowed, his lips moving slightly, soundless words escaped his lips. Confused as to what he was doing, Andrew approached him, knowing wasting time was a dangerous thing to do. Still, Andrew never was the one to play it safe. "What are you doing?" He asked him. Salem ignored him, and continued murmuring for another prolonged second. She stopped, and raised his head; his lifted his gun higher, and turned his attention to Andrew.

"Praying." He told Andrew simply. Andrew raised his eyes and nodded, pursing his lips at the same time.

"For what?" Andrew asked again. Salem started walking toward the trenches just outside of the camp. The problem with being randomly attacked, there was no time to plan out… anything.

"For Etro to take me." Salem replied simply. Andrew raised his eyebrow.

"You want to die?"

"Don't you?" Salem questioned him back. Andrew, being caught off-guard by the question, froze momentarily, before following Salem once again. Did he? Did he really want to die?

There were many advantages to dying, one of them being he wouldn't be forced to live in this world, he would actually see – hopefully – all the people that died. Yes, there were many advantages to dying, but there was always the future, and the unknown. If he died, he will never know what will come the next day.

"I'm not saying I haven't considered it, but, no." Andrew told him. Salem nodded.

"The only thing I have left to live for are my grandparents." He murmured. They were nearing the trenches, the mud-covered ladder only a few meters away.

"Yeah, but-"

"I won't _try_ and die." Salem emphasized on the word 'try'

"Yeah, sure, if you kill yourself, I'll spit on your body." Andrew told him darkly. His respect was given to people who tried their hardest to live, and live to their fullest. So far, all the respect points for Salem were decreasing.

"I'm not suicidal." Salem argued.

"Oh, no, you just want to die. That's very different, my apologies." Andrew's sarcastic remark made Salem stop just in front of the ladder, and turn around to glare at him.

"You don't know what I've lost. You don't know a damn thing about me. So, don't give your opinions where they aren't wanted." Salem glared at Andrew, the venom in his voice took away all thought Andrew had for what he was going to say next. Feeling as if looking shocked to his remark would be showing a weakness, Andrew forced himself to keep his face emotionless, to seem indifferent.

"Fine." Andrew replied coldly. Salem narrowed his eyes, but looked down and stepped backwards. He placed a foot on the first step of the ladder, and began to climb his way down into the trench. Andrew followed suit.

Although Andrew's heart was boiling with anger at having his attempts to be considerate shot down with a cold glare and harsh words, he wasn't about to just ditch the man and go set himself up somewhere else. Salem was still the only person he found it easy to talk to.

_He's just like Annie._ Andrew thought solemnly, referring to a childhood friend he had at the orphanage. She wanted to die, her life was ripped from her, her parents, her home… everything. She hung herself in the attic of the orphanage a year after he met her. She was two years older, more like a older sister. Since then, he found himself responsible for every person's welfare when they even considered taking their own lives.

"I…" Andrew started, trying to say something that would change Salem's mind about life without him lashing out at him.

"Don't you dare say it." Salem told him coldly. He just wouldn't be able to control the anger inside him if Andrew finished the sentence. The sentence he most defiantly included Janette not wanting him to die.

"_Salem." Her voice floated into the air and reached his ears, he turned, and saw her. She was out in the garden, and covered in dirt. Her overalls had grass stains and rips in them, her elbows had dirt smudged on them, her gardening gloves were rested on her hips. Her blond hair was up in a messy bun. There were smudges of dirt on her cheeks and nose. _

"_Yeah?" He asked. They were talking through the window; he was in the kitchen, trying to fill his black hole of a stomach. _

"_I need your help!" She gestured to a large bag. He knew it was full of weeds and stray grass. He sighed, and slowly made his way outside to help her. _

"Hey, I don't know a damn thing about her. You tell me, would she want you to die?" Andrew boldly asked. He ignored Salem's glare and took an empty space between two other soldiers. He flicked the safety off and raised his gun. The weapon rested against the soft ground, steady and ready for the enemy. Salem didn't respond, seeing Andrew's determined gaze. He lost someone too; he knew exactly what Salem was feeling, perhaps more, seeing as Janette's death was before Emily's. There was still more hurt for the blond man.

He groaned, aggravated. Perhaps it was because he was caught in the never ending cycle of war, perhaps it was because, even after four years, four years of seeing comrades and friends fall to the hands of enemies, he wanted to join them. He had felt bullets puncture his flesh and bone, he had been on leave for periods of time, but, really, they were nothing. There was no special person to welcome him back and cry in relief. His grandparents were old, and both in a nursing home, seeing as he couldn't take care of them.

His world was falling apart right before his eyes, and he just couldn't put it back together. No matter how many times he tried to repair it, it only managed to break again. The look on Andrew's face told it all: he knew exactly how Salem felt. He lived it, he breathed in the reality every day.

The thought made Salem feel somewhat guilty, seeing as the blond man only tried to make him see his self-worth.

"Hey! You better get your head out of the clouds." A nearby soldier told him, he held out a helmet to him. "You forgot this." The soldier told Salem when he turned his attention on him. He reached out and took his helmet, squinting to see who it was behind the helmet.

"Oh, Braden, thanks." He thanked the soldier when he recalled his name. Though they never talked, they were familiar enough with each other to know each other's names.

"Don't die on us." Braden told him, before lightly jogging down the trench to find an open spot. Salem grimaced. What was with everyone saying that today? True, Braden meant it as a 'good luck', but still. He placed his weapon under his armpit, and used both hands to carefully place the helmet on. This was his helmet, and he knew that there was a shard of plastic that would jab him if he didn't put it on just right.

"They're coming!" The commander yelled out. The loud yell brought Salem's attention back to the badland where everyone's gun was pointing. Sure enough, a small army approached. That was… odd.

Salem knew that there was no way anyone was stupid enough to send just a few dozen soldiers to take out an entire camp. There were really only two motives, one, they were going to surrender, but that was very unlikely, seeing as they nearly wiped them out in the last battle.

The bright red and blue flag was high in the air, symbolizing which kingdom they were for. Though knowing who their enemy was didn't do much, it still let each and every soldier know that they were the same that they fought with yesterday. Salem was lucky to get out of that with only a scrap from a bullet.

The second option was that this was only a decoy, something to draw their attention while they attacked from the back.

_They really want to get rid of us._ Salem thought, his gaze flicked over to Andrew, his blond hair rippled in the wind. He didn't have a helmet. _The idiot!_ He cursed under his breath.

"Andrew!" He hissed, the blonds' unwavering gaze never faltered. "Andrew!" His voice got louder, this time, the blonde twitched. He removed himself from his statue-like position and turned to face the direction of the voice.

"What?" He asked, making no attempts to be discrete. Silently, Salem tapped his helmet. Andrew's mouth dropped, his eyebrows were high, hidden beneath his bangs. He knew he forgot. No, he needed to forget that.

"Forget that. Something's not right." He told him, Salem noted how many ears tilted upward, eavesdroppers. "There's too little." Andrew explained.

Salem nodded. He moved his way over to Andrews's side, so as to not scare the others.

"What do think it is?" Salem asked, keeping his eyes locked on the small platoon in front of him. Andrew, looking at them as well, merely shrugged.

"Could be anything. The last time I saw something like this was when…" Andrew trailed off, a look of pure horror showing up on his face.

"What?" Salem demanded. Andrew didn't answer, but turned his attention to the skies. Confused, Salem turned his eyes to the sky as well.

There was nothing out of the ordinary. Agitated, he lightly hit Andrews's head, forcing the blond to turn his attention to him.

"Focus!" Salem hissed at him, Andrew only shook his head, his eyes still wide. What did Andrew know that he didn't?

A loud, roaring sound became noticeable. It's sound was loud and made Salem understand immediately what Andrew was trying to tell him, without actually saying it and causing chaos.

The platoon that was approaching their camp was only a decoy, like the suicide bombers that sometimes caused untold damage. This time, however, the obvious enemy was not going to be the reason so many were going to die. The reason was that they – including Salem and Andrew – were going to die was because of the loud noise above. The enemy was going to drop missiles on their heads.

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Though I don't say it directly, Andrew and Salem's ages are in here. In this story, you are enlisted at eighteen, whether you want to be or not. This story, though it is in a time zone similar to ours, is also different. Because of the war, people marry etc, at an earlier age. Does that make sense? I hope so... Please read and review. I will be adding an OC in the next chapter. The glasses guy and Noctis don't make an appearance for awhile, sadly, but this story starts from the very beginning. So, this is basically the entire backstory that I made up, on how Noctis and his party met. I might go further than that, but I'm not sure....


	3. Chapter 3: Origins Part 3

**Mindless Dogs**

_Chapter One: Origins Part Three

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_

The noise was deafening, ear splitting, and horrifying. Pandemonium broke out, and people began to scurry, screaming, trying to escape their most certain fate. Some of the braver ones had opened gunfire on the approaching airborne artillery. Someone called for the anti-aircraft weapons, regardless of how outdated theirs were or how high-tech their airborne enemy was.

Andrew didn't want to die.

People were being shot left and right, blood was coating the ground and the noise from above marked the coming of certain death. With a growl, Andrew turned, and shoved Salem sharply, dragging the other man's attention back to the ground, where it belonged.

"There's no fucking way I'm dying a mindless dog. Now move it! We need to reach Old Susan before some idiot decides to be heroic and try to operate her." Salem, openly confused, but a soldier at heart, reacted instantly to the order, and began to run towards the move outdated, hardest to operate out of them all, anti-aircraft weapon nicknamed 'Old Susan'.

As Salem ran, ducking and weaving, creating a path for the much slighter Andrew, Salem played with the idea that they might actually make it out alright. He had personally never met the one who had actually learned Old Susan inside and out, and knew how to fully operate her, but from the sounds of things, it appeared he already knew him.

Andrew's patience was wearing thin, Salem could tell, and realized belatedly that while he was larger and more muscular, that Andrew was easily faster, and had to slow down to stay behind him. Pushing more, Salem reached a ladder, and began to climb up, regardless of how enemy fire was upon them, or the screams of anguish of even the roaring from above.

Andrew followed shortly after, and, after a few more strides, they reached the relic of Old Susan, stationed close to their section (so that Andrew could operate her at a moments notice, Salem concluded). She had a tarp draped over her in an attempt to stay off the rain, but when Salem grabbed the material and yanked it, he was met with no resistance.

Andrew took control immediately, and, as a testament to how old the machine was-

The ground shook, the air silenced, but not from the lack of noise, rather, the abundance of noise that his ears couldn't comprehend. Sound became muted, but time did not slow down, and soon Salem found himself airborne, flying away from the machine. Earth, debris and body pieces being thrown into the air with him.

The attack had begun.

He hit the ground painfully, and, as he groaned, completely winded, he blinked blearily to the side of him, there, all battered and bloodied, and most likely dead, was the body of Andrew, his hair matted, his body at an unnatural angle. Struggling, Salem managed to force his upper body upward, and to crawl over to the man who had recently instated himself as his friend.

"Hey, kid." He whispered, his voice having not conviction, no strength. He nudged the blond, and nearly sagged in relief when he heard a low groan. Salem laughed, before relaxing, his body too winded to remember.

Remember that they were still being attacked.

Salem didn't hear the first attack, not when it was so close, but he heard the rest, and, wincing, before realizing that he had actually broken his leg, couldn't do anything to stop it, couldn't even gain enough energy to stand, let alone play hero. The best he could do was shield a worse off Andrew from death.

He tried fruitlessly to stop the bleeding in the young man's shoulder, then, realizing the cries of pain, lifting his arms higher. Ribs must be broken, or perhaps the collarbone, all he knew was that he was conscious, able to move, and the other was not.

He heard a whistle, and turned, his heart palpitating as he recognized the sound, and turned, just in time to see the weapon land on the ground far from him.

The impact was bright, everything was so fast, and before he even had the time to pull his arms up to protect his head, a piece of shrapnel stretched and cut deep into his face, before many followed it, coating his body with shallow cuts.

Consciousness was lost soon after.

* * *

_I know its very short, but that's simply because I didn't put much effort into this, but decided that the concept is interesting and I should continue to persue it. Hopefully the other chapters will be longer and better. _


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